


Comeback of the Year

by morbid_beauty



Series: Bands in College AU [4]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, M/M, Multi, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-01-04 11:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18342407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morbid_beauty/pseuds/morbid_beauty
Summary: The sophomore slump hits all the boys. Frank and Mikey are trying to be their best selves but sometimes they’re so gay, certain boys from the past become distractions. Gabe is rethinking his whole worldview, which is weird for everyone. And the My Chem/FOB rivalry refuses to die. Has the past year taught them anything at all?





	1. August

Summer break blew three times harder than winter break did. Frank had to deal with annoying kids and their ungrateful parents all day at work at the ice cream shop. He had a single weeklong vacation in Miami with Linda, but they were forced indoors for a lot of it due to a tropical storm. He saw most of his school friends, including Pete when he came to the east coast to visit Mikey in the hospital. But he missed seeing them every day like he used to.

College is so weird. Frank actually wanted to go back to school.

Linda dropped him off late in the afternoon a couple days before classes began. Mikey wasn’t there yet and everyone else was equally busy settling in so they had no help. They took a lot of trips between her car and his room in the late summer heat. Frank wasn’t phased. He practically skipped past the freshmen dorms on each trip. The sophomore dorm on O street wasn’t built in the ’60s like his old dorm; it had amenities like air conditioning and an elevator and he didn’t have to share a bathroom with five other dudes anymore. He was peachy.

On the final trip, Linda took a moment to rest on Frank’s bed. “Nice,” she said, nodding at the air conditioner. Then, she gave Frank a serious look. “Make your bed before you go out with your friends tonight or you’re gonna regret it.”

They said their goodbyes and Frank made his bed. He was ready to go out for a smoke with Dewees when Mikey walked in with his dad. Frank gasped and pulled his best friend into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

“Hi,” Mikey croaked.

“I missed you,” Frank replied.

“You saw me last week.”

As Frank pulled away, he decided to mess with him and gave him a kiss. When they parted, Mikey was blushing (score) and his father looked utterly perplexed.

“Need help with the boxes, Mr. Way?” Frank asked.

“No, we’ve got a hand truck…” he said suspiciously.

“I’m going downstairs to help my mom,” said Mikey. He smiled a little, clearly as amused as Frank, and bolted out of the room.

“And I’m going out for a smoke,” Frank said. He trusted Mr. Way to be alone in their room for two seconds and made to walk past him. The tall man with bright white hair stood in Frank’s way, looming over him with unspoken authority.

“Or not?” Frank took a step back.

“You can’t let Mikey do drugs,” he said, a threat in his tone that Frank really didn’t understand. Mr. Way wasn’t a pleasant man but Frank had never felt scared of him before now.

“I won’t.”

“If you find out he’s on something, you tell me and I might not make him drop out. Here’s my number.”

Mr. Way reached into his jacket pocket. He handed Frank a business card. Frank nodded. He’d forgotten to be worried about Mikey relapsing on their party campus. “I promise,” he said. He put the card in an empty desk drawer.

The door opened and Mikey walked in, followed by his mom. She hugged Frank, and the three Ways set Mikey’s boxes in a corner of his side of the room. Frank sat on his bed texting the whole time. When Mikey’s parents left, Mikey grinned at Frank and sat in his lap.

“We’re finally alone,” he said.

“You know that kiss earlier wasn’t--” Frank began, only to be interrupted by Mikey kissing him. Frank was surprised but he wasn’t going to stop it. They made out lazily until Mikey’s phone chirped and he pulled away to check it.

“Family dinner in five, let’s go.” Mikey hopped to his feet and looked at Frank expectantly.

“I’m so glad we’re roommates,” Frank said, shrugging his shoulders happily.

“No more kissing!”

Mikey went for the door. Frank hesitated, thinking he should tell Mikey about what his dad said. Maybe it’d be best if Mikey didn’t know. When Mikey groaned, shaking the door handle, Frank got to his feet.

“Alright, alright,” he said. He grabbed his keys and wallet and followed Mikey out.

*

Family dinner was colossal. Almost everyone that Frank considered a friend or acquaintance was crowding four tables on the south side of the dining hall. Large windows faced into the quad as a couple dozen mostly sophomores reached over tables, shimmied between seats, took pictures on their phones, chewed their food only when someone was sharing about a summer drama. It felt good, it felt natural, and Frank had been looking forward to this for weeks. He hugged his old roommates and repeated a million times that his summer was boring.

The only person Frank didn’t speak to was Ray. They sat a ways away from each other and Frank didn't want to put the effort in. Not after he spent all summer putting the effort in only to never see him. Of all his friends around the country he thought he wouldn't see over the summer, Ray was not one of them. Pete and Hayley lived a thousand miles away and Frank saw them. He thought he'd ended things well with Ray last semester but maybe not. Either way, Frank had to steel himself when he got up for dessert and saw a familiar figure in his peripheral.

“Can we talk?” Ray said. He leaned close to be heard over the sound of a thousand eager conversations in their little dining hall.

Frank studied some cookies with a pair of tongs. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Ray sighed. “I'm heading out for a smoke. If you wanna talk I'll be out there.”

Frank was frozen in place as Ray walked away. Ray smoking? Again? Well, Frank needed to hear that story. He also never had that smoke with Dewees. And he missed Ray. Ugh. He tossed out his tray, grabbed some napkins from a table, wrapped the cookies in the napkins, and stuffed them into his pockets.

Once outside, he had a fucking beautiful view. Ray had his hands in his pockets, leaning against the building, the orange-red glow of the sunset cascading over him and the campus. It was picturesque; if Frank wasn't holding a grudge, he'd have taken a picture himself. But he meant business. As hot as Ray looked standing casually in the sunlight, Frank wanted answers. He just assumed they weren't friends anymore.

“Smoking cigarettes again?” Frank asked. He stopped a few feet away, arms crossed.

“Nope,” Ray said, daring to flash a smile. “But it got you out here, huh?”

Frank nodded. He really missed him. It only made him more angry. “What do you want?”

“To apologize for disappearing this summer?” Ray detached himself from the wall and stepped closer. His voice dropped when he was close enough. “My dad had an accident at work.”

Just like that, the facade was broken. Frank let his arms fall to his sides as his anger and confusion warped. There was no way Ray would ever abandon him (and their friends, but mostly him) without good reason.

“Fuck, man,” Frank said, stepping closer. Ray clearly didn't want this conversation overheard. “Is he okay?”

“He'll be okay,” Ray said, nodded. “But he can't work. And while my family waits for the lawsuit to settle...I had to work a couple extra jobs.”

“Extra?” And did he say jobs _plural_?

“I always work when I'm home. So yeah, I had three jobs.” Ray scratched the back of his head and Frank's jaw made a beeline for the dirt. “I live so far south from the rest of you guys… It was too much to get up to you and I didn't wanna make you all take the trek to me for band practice or whatever. I should've been better.”

Frank nodded, listening intently for the end of the explanation, then immediately hugged Ray's waist. What a rollercoaster of emotion. Sangry to worried to relieved. Frank was just glad to have Ray again, to smell his cologne and have his arms secure his comparatively tiny body. He couldn't even imagine what Ray had gone through emotionally all those months.

“You were going through it,” Frank whispered. “You know we would've been there for you, right?”

Ray shrugged. Frank can tell how embarrassed and guilty he feels. They held each other a little longer and Frank didn’t feel awkward at all. When they parted, Ray’s face was red to match the sky and he looked kind of relieved, if a little tense.

“Between two of your bandmates being exes, one going to rehab, and the last fucking off to Chicago?” Frank says, gratefully earning a chuckle from Ray. “I'm not surprised you couldn't take that on.”

The only one worse than Ray was Bob. Frank hadn’t heard from that mother fucker at all. Ray at least gave late replies while blowing everyone off. Bob told him once that he was busy and was never heard of again. He wasn’t even at this dinner. In any case, Bob’s apology was going to have to include skywriting or something similar to get back in Frank’s good graces.

“I forgive you, doofus,” Frank said to Ray, finally lighting a much needed cigarette. “And next time? Don't suffer alone. We love you.”

“Love you too,” Ray said, the corner of his lips hinting at a smile.

“Have you talked to the other guys?”

Ray looked through the glass wall of the dining hall, where Mikey could be seen sitting in Gabe’s lap...while Gabe sat on William’s lap. Just like old times. “Can you help?” Ray asked, adorably shy as ever.

“Definitely.”

*

Bob was out of the band. No one knew what the hell happened with him but Gerard bumped into him and apparently he didn’t want to have anything to do with their first show at the Dent this year. Or with anyone from the old suite. Frank tried to be angry instead of devastated. It wasn’t hard.

The second night on campus was MCR's first fall semester show at the Dent. The Welcome Back party had been planned weeks in advance but they didn’t have much time to practice. The time they did have was spent teaching their friend Jarrod all the drum parts, which was difficult considering Gerard, Frank, and Mikey sucked at the drums. But Jarrod was a quick study and picked things up from recordings and having been to previous shows. Ultimately, though, many people were unsober and who cared if they messed up? Even if they were on such a big stage?

“That’s a lot people,” Mikey said to Frank. They’re on the main stage of the Dent. Mikey’s hands trembled as they hovered over the strings of his bass and his eyes took on the crowd. Students moved in and out of the Dent freely but it was more crowded than on a usual night, with definitely at least a thousand in front of the stage. Skateboarders still rolled around, waiting for the music to start before they were forced to stop. Frank couldn’t be more excited.

“We played for more people at Savage!” Frank said, remembering the festival fondly. “We can handle this.”

“I’ve never played sober.”

Well, shit. Frank nibbled on his lip. He took Mikey's hand and dragged him aside, facing away from the crowd. Mikey looked at Frank with a sort of empty horror.

“Take a deep breath, first of all,” Frank said. “Take it with me.”

They took a deep breath together, as Frank learned from his therapist back home. Frank told Mikey when to pause at the top and go back down. They did this a couple more times until it became easier for Mikey to breathe.

“Don't look at the crowd,” Frank said. “Don't think about them. Think about me, and Ray, and your brother. Just imagine we're at practice.”

“But I can hear them,” Mikey said, looking at the crowd. “What if--”

“Don't do that.” Frank had had enough panic attacks to see one coming from his best friend. Mikey stared at the growing mass of college kids. “Hey! The most punk rock thing you can do right now is say fuck it and play this show like you just smoked three bowls.”

Mikey chuckled. It was the biggest relief; the knot forming in Frank's chest loosened a bit. He wasn't sure if mentioning weed was the best idea, since Mikey can't even smoke that, but the tension visibly released from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, Frank guessed, to remember that feeling of apathy and relaxation.

“Can I look at you instead?” Mikey asked.

“Of course.”

The show went off without a hitch. From what Frank could tell, when he wasn't thrashing around on the stage, Mikey mostly stared at his bass and stood in one spot. But halfway through the set, he was smiling and jumping a little. As usual Frank flirted with everyone, Gerard channeled his inner David Bowie and Ray his inner Brian May, and the crowd screamed along to songs from their previous shows. It was awesome. By the end of the set, Frank was sweaty and needed to pee real bad. They packed their stuff away and split up to mingle. Frank beelined for the bathroom.

Like any good punk venue, the bathroom was ridiculous. Graffiti littered all the walls, some things crude and others funny (and a handful that were both). Where there wasn't graffiti, there were stickers for just about anything covering cracks and peeled paint. Cigarette butts littered the floor by the overflowing trash can, which propped the door into the hall open for some reason. By the time Frank got out of his stall (which did take some time; he had to add to the graffiti, of course), there was only one other person in the bathroom and they were inside one of the other three stalls. Frank washed his hands, stared at himself in the mirror a bit, and almost had a heart attack when the stall door slammed opened to reveal a smirking older Way.

“I missed you,” Gerard said, a sultriness to his voice.

“We were just on stage together,” Frank said.

He shook his hands after reaching for a paper towel and getting nothing. When he turned back, Gerard was right in front of him. He hooked his finger into a loop in Frank's jeans.

“You know what I mean,” Gerard said, his voice just a step above a whisper.

“Well, Clingy, that's too bad,” Frank said. He didn't try to move away. “We said it was for summer.”

“Autumn isn't for another few weeks…”

Frank didn’t have a car. His mother took hers to work. He lived closer to Mikey’s rehab hospital than the Ways did. It was quickly established that Gerard would pick Frank up on the way to Mikey’s, so they could both see him. They did this at least once a week, every week, for the whole summer.

In the beginning it was hard. Mikey was barely holding it together. He was like a zombie, sad and sick and in pain, having relapsed and tumbled further down rock bottom as soon as classes were over. While Frank was good at staying positive, Gerard was only good at faking it. One of those first weeks, during a particularly difficult visit when Mikey lashed out and cut their visit short, they stopped at the side of the road and Gerard just cried. Frank took the wheel and drove them to his house. Gerard stayed the night. After that, they had sex almost every week for the rest of the summer. And only the summer.

“It's fall semester whether the leaves are changing or not,” Frank said.

“It's hot out,” Gerard said. He tugged on Frank's jeans and their hips met. “Don't you miss me?”

Frank wouldn't admit it under oath but he definitely kissed Gerard first. He was barely resisting anyway. Gerard's other hand got a tight grip in Frank's hair, which everyone that ever met Frank knew he liked. Frank crowded Gerard against the sink, up on his toes, grinding against him, hands slipping under his shirt making him shiver from the wet cold. They bit each other's lips, moaned softly.

“Are you about to have sex in a club bathroom?” a stranger's voice shouted. “That’s so gay!”

They moved away from each other and stood apart, panting but smiling. The drunk intruder looked and sounded so happy to have caught them.

“Don't mind me,” he said, raising his hands. “There are multiple stalls for a reason.”

He went into a stall. Frank giggled. Gerard got a grip on Frank's shirt and dragged him into one of the other stalls. Of course he had a condom.


	2. September

The college's Health Center was just as disconcerting as a regular hospital, but in its own special ways. A waiting room with chairs only in the perimeter, forcing everyone to look at everyone else, was sprinkled with sleepy, unhappy young adults. Every few seats were separated by a side table covered in magazines, a box of tissues, and a basket of condoms. Classically, a TV in a high corner played an early morning talk show. Frank made these observations while Mikey napped, head on his shoulder. There wasn't a single building on this campus that didn't have a certain chaotic energy about it.

“Michael Way?”

Frank nudged Mikey awake and he groggily sat up. “Yeah, I’m here,” he said. He took his backpack, pat Frank’s thigh, and followed the nurse out of the waiting room.

And now, Frank was alone. He hated hospitals. He spent too much time in them growing up, being sick or behind his mom's desk. There was always an anticipatory dread in a waiting room, a long dragged out boredom in a doctor's office. When his name was called, he was just relieved it was almost over.

Frank found Mikey outside after his appointment. Mikey sucked on a lollipop and stared at the grass, painfully deep in thought. Frank felt vulnerable. He wanted a therapist on campus; needed, according to his mom. But telling someone about your problems, some stranger, was always a draining experience. He hated recounting his faults and traumas. He'll be doing it every week from now on.

“Yeah, that blew,” Mikey said upon looking up at Frank. He was a mind reader. He'd had a similar appointment. “But it got me thinking about something...”

They started walking back to their dorm. Neither had class for at least a couple hours. Frank got a cigarette from his back pocket and lit it as they walked. He felt like every molecule in him was at half energy.

“I think, you know, since I can't do any drugs and shouldn't,” Mikey continued, “that I could try to just focus on school. No distractions.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Frank said, blowing smoke at the sky.

“That means no boy toys. And no cigarettes. And obviously, no drugs.”

Frank nodded but he was frowning. “Is that your way of saying you're not having sex?”

“This semester is going to be about me,” Mikey said. “And my platonic relationships, I guess. Not about Pete or whoever wants to fuck me this week.”

The thing about Mikey's recovery was that he hadn't changed much. He was still slutty and insightful, but now also calmer and less energized. He was slower, tired, but he had the same sense of humor and pretty much spoke the same. He also carried himself with much more maturity and Frank could see it now, in his sincerely serious expression. He was vulnerable like Frank was. But he was like that all the time now.

“Good for you,” Frank said. “I'm sure it'll help with...you know.”

They turn a corner and their dorm comes into view. There aren't many people walking around campus right now. They stopped in the quad a few yards from their dorm entrance so Frank could finish smoking. Mikey still looked so deep in thought, like the gears were grinding hard enough to hurt. He could probably use something to take the edge off whatever he was feeling.

“Last one?” Frank asked, offering Mikey the cigarette.

After scrutinizing it for a moment, Mikey took it. “The most helpful thing is to have someone by your side through a big change,” he said, glancing at Frank momentarily. “And, uh, no judgment don't get mad, but I was thinking about how...drugs and sex fucked up your year before…”

Frank frowned, knowing very well that Mikey was right, and watched him take a greedy hit from his cigarette. He snatched it back when it was offered. Mikey gave him a tiny smile.

“I see your point,” Frank grumbled.

“So are you in?”

Was he in? To give up this wonderfully gross experience of smoking a cigarette under a cloudy, late-summer sky? To pause the chance to sit in someone's lap knowing later he'll sit on their dick? Frank looked at Mikey with doubt, though Mikey just looked hopeful.

“You can survive a semester celibate and sober, right?” Mikey said.

“Let me think about it,” Frank said. “Just to support you.”

Mikey gave Frank's ass a light tap and said, “Atta boy.” He headed into their dorm. “Gotta get away from that smell, see you inside.”

Frank finished his cigarette alone, deep in thought.

*

Gerard was a busy boy, constantly painting for his senior project and running around campus getting stuff done for his multiple clubs. So Frank didn't see him often, and when he did it was usually to have sex; time efficiency, or whatever. Having to tell your booty call they won't get any more booty? Awkward. Especially while sitting with them in bed.

To his credit, Gerard didn't look angry which was Frank's biggest fear. He did look confused, though. He stood up, using his hand on Frank's lap for leverage, and walked over to his dresser.

"I just wish I’d had a bit of a notice," Gerard said.

"Dare I ask why?" Frank said, just as Gerard turned around with a little bottle of lube in his hand. "Oh, that's not cheap."

Gerard tossed it and Frank barely caught it, read the label. Warming, tingling… He'd never used this stuff before but he'd spoken with Gerard about it. He kept forgetting that Mikey being rich meant Gerard was rich and therefore could just go to a sex shop and buy whatever on a whim. This no sex thing was gonna be a rough deal. Frank felt himself blush as he turned the bottle over.

"Guess I’ll have to find some other twink to use it on," Gerard said. He plucked the bottle from Frank's greedy hands and threw it onto the bed.

"I am not a-" Frank stood, ready for a fight as always, but Gerard only smirked. "Is this how you’re wooing me? Don’t look at me like that! Ray's gonna be here any minute."

"But after he's gone?"

There's something about kissing someone you have a lot of chemistry with. Frank loved how Gerard swept him into his arms, forcing him to his tippy toes, and kissed him like he was starving for it. He loved the moans Gerard made when Frank curled his fists into his hair, and how he bit Frank's lip to get a moan back. He loved the feeling of him against his hip. But he loved Mikey more. Dammit, he loved his best friend more than having sex.

The knock on Gerard's window forced them apart and Frank could barely catch his breath before saying, softly, "I'm doing it for Mikey."

"Answer the door, motherfuckers!" said Ray.

Ray's footsteps on the grass drifted away. Gerard frowned at Frank, who continued explaining.

"He wants to focus on himself and he feels self-conscious about choosing celibacy," Frank said. His heart hammered uncomfortably, from embarrassment and horniness and feeling guilty at divulging this information. "He wants someone to relate to in this queer, drugged-up, sex-crazed campus."

"Okay," Gerard said, nodding thoughtfully. "I'll wait for you, then."

They heard the knock on the front door this time. Frank sat on the bed as Gerard went to answer it. It will take all of one minute for them to get down the hall and it was all Frank had to compose himself. He even managed to put away the lube while he was at it. That'll have to wait.

"The figurines came in!" Ray said, bursting through the bedroom door with Gerard in tow. Frank grinned at him. "Your elf looks nothing like you. She's twice your height," Ray teased.

With half his D&D party graduating last year, Gerard needed to regroup for a new campaign this year. Ray ordered the figurines and Gerard paid for them. Gerard was also dungeon master, and the other party members would meet him to work on their character sheets at a later date. It was a happy coincidence that Frank was alone with his favorite guys...again.

"I love her," Frank said, hugging his elf self when Ray handed him the statue. "She's magical and scary and mysterious and-"

"No match for Ztiv the Deva Prince!" Ray said, holding his own character aloft.

Gerard dropped a huge stack of D&D books on the rug in the middle of his room. "You're supposed to work together," he said, already sounding exhausted. He sat down on the floor. "Please focus on fighting monsters and not each other."

They joked and teased about the proper play style for D&D, Frank and Ray already getting on their DM's nerves. When Ray decided to stay a bit longer and work on his backstory in private, Gerard said to Frank, "We can talk about the other thing later." Frank really didn't want to but he smiled and nodded. Ray looked between them suspiciously; had he seen anything through the curtain?

Frank was in for another weird year. Great. He prayed for a distraction on his way back to his dorm, a ten-minute walk that no amount of D&D could mask the boredom of. Luckily, a tiny pink-haired acquaintance of his skipped alongside him once he reached the academic buildings.

"You have class with that transfer Lindsey right?" Hayley asked. She had bright makeup to match her neon hair.

“Uh, yeah,” Frank said. “We’re taking Human Sexuality together. She’s great at shutting up transphobes.”

“I knew she was strong,” Hayley said wistfully. Frank furrowed his brow but smiled. “Do you know anything about her romantic inclinations or lack thereof?”

“I think she’s into girls?”

She bit her lip, looking oh so pleased, and Frank could only imagine what she was imagining. Maybe something like what Frank imagined, spending the afternoon with two of his exes after one of them did a good job of getting him horny. And now he was back to thinking about that.

“She is ace though so you're not getting laid,” Frank told Hayley.

“I know! I’ve seen her wear the flag.” She rolled her eyes and reached into her purse. “I don't think with my penis like you do. Please give her this invite to the Paramore show this weekend.”

The flyer that Hayley handed Frank touted a show for the ages, co-headlined by Paramore and Fall Out Boy. Frank stared at it a moment, trying to remember when he’d last spoken with FOB about doing a show together. My Chem hadn’t played another show at a proper venue since that first week, though they held practices for friends to enjoy on the regular. FOB included.

“Am I invited?” Frank asked, looking back up in time to see Hayley skip away.

 

“Duh, girl!” she said. “Love ya, bye!”

Frank took a picture of the flyer and sent it to the MCR group chat. Something new to think about as he walked into his dorm. Pelor bless punk rock.

*

The boys were spread out and busy so family dinner became less of a tradition and more of a whim. It was harder to coordinate when they didn’t see each other literally every day but the night of that Paramore show, when they’d all be headed to the Dent anyway, seemed reasonable. Mikey tagged along because of course he did, and the rest of Fall Out Boy would be there. More frigid weather was starting to come over New York State and Frank already had the sniffles.

“Why does your nose always run when it’s even slightly cool out?” Mikey asked, walking through the quad in just a t-shirt.

Frank had on a hoodie, sleeves held tight around his fingers and hood covering his forehead. “I don’t knowww,” he moaned. “I wasn’t meant to live in the deep north.”

"We're not even that close to Canada."

"It's cooooollld!"

“I heard you two are priests now,” said Gabe, appearing from absolutely nowhere and wrapping his arms around their necks. It made sense that he could be somewhere behind them, since their dorm was between his dorm and the dining hall, but damn. Frank and Mikey both jumped and Mikey gave him a shove. They started walking again with him between them.

“How could you have possibly heard anything like that?” Mikey said, his cheeks turning red. He looked at Frank, who shrugged. Gerard definitely wouldn’t have said anything.

“Bird in the wind,” Gabe said. “Anyway, I need advice.”

“Okay…”

“William wants to marry me.”

Stopping a few feet from the entrance to the dining hall, surrounded on the quad by stragglers, they both grabbed his arm and shouted, “WHAT?!” Some people took notice, and glanced in their direction, so Gabe lowered his voice.

“Yeah,” Gabe said, seemingly unbothered. He was either in denial or had done his freaking out about it already. “And we were gonna...I guess elope? But then I had an existential...thingy. Because Vicky kinda wants to be a thing again and we kinda want that but I'm impulsive and it hasn't destroyed my life like it did for you guys-”

“Thanks,” Frank said, trying to focus on the info dump. Mikey just rolled his eyes.

“But who am I if my personality is just...Gabe ‘Tries Anything Once’ Saporta?” he went on. “I’ll try marriage once. Sure. That’s what you should do. But we’re still technically teenagers? And I don’t know, marriage seems sacred like… It should be the two of us and not also Victoria but I want Victoria.”

Gabe looked between them, waiting for an answer they didn’t have, though Frank suspected he’d talk himself into one if they gave him time. Frank hugged himself and stared at his friend, dying to just go inside. In his peripheral, he saw Dewees and Ray approaching from their dorm as well.

“Can we finish this conversation some other time?” Mikey asked. “It doesn’t feel as urgent as this dinner. Or getting Frank out of the cold.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Gabe said. He squeezed them both and jogged into the building. When he was out of earshot, Frank and Mikey laughed. Not because it was funny at all but because it was absolutely absurd.

“What the fuck?” said Frank, just as his old roommates approached.

“Hey, what was that about?” Ray asked.

“Nothing, don’t worry, let’s go eat!” said Mikey, turning swiftly and entering the dining hall.

The seating arrangement for this second family dinner was similarly chaotic, though with fewer players. Frank ended up next to Ray, with whom he spoke almost exclusively; he sat at an end seat but also he missed Ray so it came easily. The rest was a random scattering of MCR and FOB, along with their partners and close friends, and it was almost too much to pay attention to. It wasn't that Frank didn't want to speak to the others; it felt natural and normal to fuck around with Ray.

"Do you really think he did it to spite you?" Frank asked.

"He looked right at me while he did it!" Ray said, ultra defensive. Frank almost spat out his food as he laughed. "I do not get paid enough to be a library lackey."

"Being a librarian pays your tuition, ungrateful bitch!"

"I deserve a stipend as well. This bitch deserves some weed money for putting up with those weird hoes."

Ray exaggerated a frown to stop from laughing as Frank fell into a giggling fit. It was Gerard who brought up the elephant in the room, when most had finished their dinners and moved on to dessert. The meal was winding down and people were already discussing plans for the rest of the weekend: studying, marathoning a TV show, seeing a friend, etc. A silence fell over the table when Gerard guided the elephant in the room to the forefront with his commanding voice.

"So you guys are playing the Dent tonight with Paramore," he said, looking between Pete and Patrick. They were sat next to each other and a certain amount of tension rippled through them, then the rest of the table. They didn't look up right away. Everyone knew MCR were beloved on campus and before summer, they expected to play similar shows with FOB again. So hearing this news from a flier Frank got from Hayley was jarring.

Frank immediately grew tense and stared at his ice cream. He barely registered the rest, half asleep from being too full and whole stressed from the situation.

"Uh, yeah, we are," said Patrick.

"What happened to us taking turns headlining?" Gerard follows up.

After a silent moment of tension, Joe responds. "Well...Brian graduated and the new manager of the Dent thinks your music is too...dark."

"But people love MCR," Jarrod said. "That's why I jumped at the chance to join. You didn’t even vouch for us?"

"Sorry," Patrick said with finality, shrugging.

Frank expected more of a blow up but it was a softening of tension, like a ripple across a mossy lake. He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to Ray. His warmth and his smell were so comforting. Everyone slowly went back to their desserts. Frank wouldn't finish his.

"Cool so if it's gonna be like that..." Dewees said between bites. "I just got a job at a bar in town and they sometimes have bands play. MCR seems like a good suggestion I can give. And literally no other band I know."

Gabe chuckled, stuffing his face with pie. Mouth full, he said, "This drama is delicious."

The show at the Dent was explosive and full of energy. Frank got separated from his friends but not for the usual reasons. Sure he wanted to truly lose his shit in the mosh pit, and he did, but before then he kept feeling Ray’s or Gerard's sweaty body against him and needed to get the heck away. He had all this pent up aggression he needed to let out. He even took the mic for a Paramore song, screaming some parts they no longer had a dirty vocalist for. Halfway through Fall Out Boy's set, he thought he saw Pete and Patrick get a little handsie - like how he did with Gerard on stage. He knew what Mikey would be ranting about later.

Frank snuck away ahead of everyone and smoked an emergency cigarette he kept in his jacket. He just needed something. Mikey didn’t have to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really can't predict when these updates will come, but MCR reuniting is QUITE the motivator! Thank you for the lovely comments <3


	3. October

The rare warm day had all but disappeared when Mikey slammed his textbook down in the library and crashed into a seat. They'd planned to meet here but no one in Frank's circle had ever made such a theatrical entrance; students nearby shushed them loudly. Mikey rolled his eyes and leaned over the table to talk to Frank.

"Forget the pact," Mikey said, and Frank would've smiled if he wasn't so confused. "You wanna fuck, I want a cigarette."

Frank had survived September fuckless, with the occasional cheat cigarette and make out session. He'd only heard Mikey brag about how this decision was so good for him. He thought meeting for an emergency studying session at the library was just that; apparently not.

"I already had a cigarette, didn't you?" Frank tried, voice soft. He officially wasn't reading his psychology textbook.

"Maybe," Mikey said, basically an admission. Frank smirked. The library was not at its busiest so they were alone in their aisle, surrounded by towers of books. "Who did you have sex with?" Mikey said after a moment.

Frank raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat. He contemplated lying but Mikey didn't look put off. He also thought about Gerard and how after the last D&D session, in which Frank's character flirted with a shopkeeper, they made out on his bed and it got a little heated.

"You're actively trying to get me to break the pact," Frank had said, fists in Gerard's t-shirt as he tried to keep some distance between them.

"I know Mikey," Gerard said. Their hips were pressed together; his weight on top of Frank was so comforting and good. "He’s probably broken it already."

"You’re a bad brother."

"But you like me."

And they kissed some more, then went their separate ways to deal with their boners.

"We only made out...and it was your brother," Frank murmured. He played with the hardcover of his textbook and waited for Mikey's judgement.

"You're still hooking up with Gerard," Mikey said, face devoid of emotion.

"A little bit, yeah."

"I'm not even mad. You have stuff to figure out."

What did that mean? Mikey finally opened his textbook then turned away to get some other things out of his bag. Frank had this visceral, unfriendly urge to turn this on Mikey; why was he suddenly so desperate for a cigarette, when he's been fine these past few weeks? Why didn't he make a bigger deal out of what was happening with Gerard?

"Have you figured out the Pete and Patrick thing?" Frank asked, going with a hunch.

"It wasn't a big deal and it's none of my business," Mikey said. His eyes were in his books.

"Okay."

Another few minutes of quiet studying. Frank couldn't focus. He kept re-reading the same paragraph, hearing conversation from aisles down, a car outside. The sun shone through a nearby window and Frank looked at the books behind Mikey, how the golden letters on their old spines glowed. His phone was on the table, blinking a notification light; he'd promised himself not to check until the chapter was over.

"Can I rant to you a bit?" Mikey said, closing his textbook and leaning forward to whisper.

Frank sighed and closed his textbook too. "Of course."

*

"I feel like...everyone’s coming to me with their problems. Which is fine, I mean, I love my friends and I’ll always be there for them. But what about my problems?"

Frank's therapist Stella was about his mother's age, which was a little weird, but she had an adorable southern accent which made it all okay. Abstract paintings hung on the walls of her office, along with bookshelves stacked with psychology books. The carpet irritated him; it had a pattern with no repetition, totally random little colorful shapes that weren't even enough colors to look gay. He hated the tissue box on the table next to him and never used it.

"You haven’t talked much recently about your own problems, except for how other peoples’ problems affect you," Stella said. "So talk to me about your problems. That’s kinda what I’m here for."

Frank pouted, shrugged, did a quick mental check on how he was feeling. "I’m doing okay in my classes, my mom isn’t hassling me as much, I have two very cute boys I’m still crushing on hard," he said, blushing a bit at the last part.

"And you ended the pact, so now you can be with one of them," she said, flashing a knowing smile. They stared each other down a moment until Frank giggled, covering his face with his hands and slipping down the chair. Stella smiled, doodling on her notepad.

"Which sounds awesome!" Frank dropped his arms on the rests, looked up at the cracked paint of the ceiling. "But what if something goes wrong?"

"What about all the things that can go right? You know there's more options than the bad things."

Frank shook his head. If he'd gotten a therapist that wasn't so snarky, this really couldn't work out. "I told you how it went last year," he said.

"You mean when you made assumptions and didn't speak up about how you were feeling?" she said. Frank sighed and sat back up, pulled his sleeves down over his knuckles. "Even you admit they weren't upset with you, just worried about you."

He hated the lulls in conversation. He hated having to think, knowing something serious was going to come out of it. He stared at the shittily patterned carpet and imagined each dirty little blotch of color was Gerard or Ray, Mikey or…some other asshole. Frank himself was definitely the blue one. Blue was the most prominent color on the carpet, slutty as it appeared way more than the others. Touching every other color, making itself known loudly.

"I know this is a subject you don't like to approach…" Stella said, and Frank was already hugging himself. "But I'm noticing patterns here that make me think about your ex."

"I’m over that shit, okay?" Frank looked at the box of tissues, then out the window. It was starting to get too dark outside, too early. "I haven’t had any PTSD symptoms since this summer, I’m fine."

They both knew this was a lie. He lied a lot in therapy but only when it was obvious and he just didn't want to say the truth aloud. Or he didn't want to believe the truth. Maybe if he said a convincing enough lie, he really would be fine. Everything was fine. Why was he so fucking sad?

"We won’t talk about it now," Stella said, placing her notepad on her desk behind her. "Our session is almost over. And I don’t want you to fixate on it until next week. But I hope you can come next week with an open mind about it. So. Breathing exercises?"

Frank's favorite part. "Breathing exercises," he said with a nod, still not looking her in the eye.

*

A few days later, Frank came back to his dorm with groceries that included Halloween decorations - excellent mood booster. Why didn't he have these up already? He unlocked the door to his room and kicked it open, lugging in the bags and having no idea what kind of afternoon he was in for.

"Honey, I'm home!" he yelled over the sound of the shower. "I saw we were low on filters for the coffee pot so I bought some."

Mikey didn't respond. He usually did when he was in the shower; he loved uncomfortable moments like that. Whatever. Frank put the food in their mini-fridge, the tiny pumpkins in various places, held up a 'HAPPY HALLOWEEN' sign and contemplated where to put it.

"Are we still on for dinner with Gabilliam later?" Frank called over the shower sound again. "I haven't heard from either of those hoes today. They could be married already."

Still no response. Frank decided the sign should be over the window, so it was the first thing he saw when he walked into the room. He got up on a chair then immediately almost fell off when someone unlocked the dorm room from outside.

"Mikey?" Frank said, as his roommate walked in with a laundry basket. He was...so confused. The shower kept running.

"Yeah?" Mikey frowning was not a rare look, necessarily, but it added to Frank's confusion.

Frank hopped off the chair and met Mikey at his bed, where he put down the basket. "Where'd you come from?"

"The laundry room," Mikey said. Frank smacked his arm.

"Then who's in the shower?"

After a pause, and a glance behind him to the bathroom door, Mikey said, "Pete." And Frank's instinctual, immediate reaction was to smile. His lips turned up slowly and he probably looked like a goofball. This could only be good news. He'd had his fair share of waiting-for-laundry sex, it made sense. But Mikey didn't exactly look like he was in a good mood.

"We'll talk about it later," he said.

"Did you guys-" Frank started, wondering how much they could gossip with Pete being in the other room.

"No!" Mikey shouted. The shower turned off. Mikey knocked over his laundry basket, punching the side of it and letting his clothes fall onto his bed. "We'll talk about it later!" he hissed at Frank, who'd taken a couple steps away from him without thinking.

Pete was going to be out of the bathroom soon. The Halloween sign was only hanging off the wall from one end. Mikey looked up at Frank and his anger morphed into regret; his eyes turned glassy, his breathing hard as he opened his mouth to speak. It was familiar to Frank, in so many ways. That was gonna be a panic attack. That was gonna be an apology from someone he loved that scared him.

"I'm s-"

"Should I go?" Frank said, before Mikey could finish. He didn't wanna hear it.

Mikey nodded. "Please?"

Frank went out onto the Quad and stood in the middle of the grass, tennis shoes unbalanced on the terrain. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He was confused and worried and as much as Stella said he shouldn’t fixate on Ernest, the ex-boyfriend came to mind. He was starting to feel dizzy; it was too early for it to be turning dark and a gust of wind sent a shiver through him. He looked around the Quad, at the freshman dorms where a lot of the drama of last year happened, and felt his chest tighten.

“Hey…”

A cool hand touched his and he recognized it right away. He swerved and saw a gentle, almost concerned smile on Ray’s face. Frank opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Ray pulled him into a hug.

“I need somewhere to be for a while,” Frank said into Ray’s chest, feeling calm already.

“My room’s free.”

It always felt good and right to hold Ray's hand. Walking back to their dorm, up two flights, hearing him talk about his day, and hold his hand. Frank was pleased when they entered Ray's dorm room and they had some decorations up as well: ghosts and ghouls on the doors, a giant plastic jack-o'-lantern on the ground, a couple bats hanging from the ceiling.

"Can't believe you got your decor up before me," Frank said. "I thought I was Halloween's bitch."

Ray pulled him to a seat on his bed, which was lower to the ground than last year. "See, that's your problem," he said. "You have to make Halloween your bitch."

Frank chuckled. "You're so right."

"What are you gonna be this year?"

"An elf with a shady past and a penchant for stealing from my fellow party members."

It took Ray a moment to understand that. "Oh! We have D&D on Halloween!"

"Yeah!"

They talked a little about D&D. They hadn't stopped holding hands. Ray started playing with his hand as he spoke, stroking Frank's fingers in turn then poking his knuckles. Frank forgot to reply once, looking down at their hands. Then he looked up at Ray and they were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. Lingering in the little bubble they had created.

"You're so touchy," Frank whispered, as Ray closed the space between them.

"I like touching you," Ray whispered back.

It'd been way too long since they kissed. It felt like when Frank went back home and had to readjust to an old life he had, but it never took long. For a moment it was awkward, Ray bending down like that and their hands held so tightly. Then Frank pulled away for just a moment, to get on his knees for a better angle, and Ray looked at him with a little smile and eyes almost shining. The second kiss was better, Ray turning to wrap an arm around Frank's waist; a certain tension rising with their lips pressed hard but moving slowly. This was a familiar feeling Frank liked, and missed.

"I have to- I have to be sure," Ray said, pulling back a little.

"About what?" Frank said. He hugged Ray's shoulders, buried his face in his neck. Kissed him softly there.

"That you and Gerard aren't together."

Frank didn't move. He wanted to stay in the bubble, in this little pocket universe where they just randomly started making out, for as long as possible. "You dingus. You absolute jerk. Of course we're not."

"I saw you guys making out through the window that one time-"

Frank fell backwards and sat on the bed facing Ray, hugging his knees. Pouting. Of course he'd seen that.

"...and you spend an awful lot of time with him," Ray finished. He scooted closer and faced him, his own legs crossed. "I didn't mean to imply you're a cheater. I just felt like an asshole."

He leaned forward and gave Frank a quick little kiss. Then Frank was smiling again. Pocket universe. He shrugged. "You're not," he said. "And I'm not being slutty like last year. I just like you both. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. Is it okay that I just like touching you?"

Ray gently held Frank's leg and rubbed his shin with his thumb. It was weird, but also really nice; that part of Frank’s body was definitely rarely touched, and never like that, and not by someone like him. Frank stretched out his leg and sighed happily as Ray massaged him.

"Fuck you, you're so cute," Frank said, making Ray chuckle. Frank was so full to the brim with emotions right now; this was something Ray did to him. "I feel like...with Gerard, it was always about sex. With you, it was about romance."

Ray got this big, goofy smile on his face. He raised his eyebrows.

"Don't look at me like that," Frank said, feeling his cheeks turn hot. "I really thought I loved you! I'm a romantic, sue me!"

"A chemical romantic?" Ray quipped. He laughed when Frank's response was to give him a shove. A second shove sent Ray onto his back and Frank crawled over him to straddle his hips.

"You are cheesier than all of Wisconsin," Frank said, poking the corners of Ray lips to stop that pleased smile. "I was opening up to you, jackass!"

Ray grabbed his hands and held them to his chest. "I've only ever loved two men in my life…" he said softly, "and you made me feel more loved than Gerard ever did."

There was that fucking romantic shit again. Frank was wired and full and Ray was good and cute. They kissed again and there was no longer a sacred bubble Frank wanted to live in where time didn't move. He knew exactly what he wanted from this and Ray seemed to be on board, as they pulled off articles of clothing with increasingly frantic energy. There were smiles and chuckles between kisses; Ray touched him everywhere; Frank had missed the taste of him, his strong arms holding and moving him. Frank's loud moans from the long-awaited release of tension could probably be heard across the hall. He didn't care. He needed this.

When they were lying together after, out of breath and sweaty and feeling so damn good, Ray whispered, "I can be about sex too."

Frank scoffed, "Ya don't say." And they both laughed.

Dewees got back from class shortly after, and Frank left for his room. He kissed Ray goodbye and Dewees acted scandalized; Frank imagined them talking about it. He imagined anyone and everyone talking about it. Frank and Ray now, huh? He smiled all the way to his room.

Which brought him back to Mikey, who he found sitting on his bed with a half-folded shirt in his lap. The Halloween sign was up. Mikey looked like he'd been crying. Frank's smile faded. He leaned against the door and waited for Mikey to initiate. All Frank wanted to do was talk about Ray.

"Let's talk about Pete," Mikey whispered.

"Okay," Frank said.

"He was showering because he showed up at the door drunk and I wanted him to sober up."

And just like that, Frank was indignantly pissed off. There was really no shortage of assholery on this campus. Everyone knew what Mikey was going through and mostly everyone was being careful; not being around him drunk or reeking of weed. He seemed to be handling himself fine, but Pete had to know how much it would fuck Mikey up to see him like that. Frank wanted to waltz across the Quad and clock him. He wanted to crawl under his sheets and forget it and think about Ray.

"But before that, we talked about how we still...loved each other...and couldn't be together," Mikey continued, getting all choked up again. Frank unfroze and sat next to Mikey. They easily moved into a hug, and Mikey cried into his shoulder. "We hurt each other too much last year. And I put too much work into being sober, I can't handle…"

Normally Frank would ask questions or be encouraging or just do more than be quiet and listen. But he was exhausted. And maybe not over how much it scared him to see Mikey get angry like that.

And Frank was happy! He was so happy. But it was sitting in the back of his head while he worried about Mikey and rattled his brain for the right words to say, for the right way to convey that he cared. Without having to fall into this Pete and Mikey hole again.

"I miss him so much," Mikey said after a moment. He sounded dejected, as he pulled away from Frank and tossed the shirt onto the pile on the bed. He walked to his desk and blew his nose.

"We don’t have to hang out with Gabilliam right now if you don’t want to," Frank insisted. Maybe he still needed to talk. Maybe Frank should try to be a friend right now.

"No, I want to. Let me just take my medication and we can…"

Mikey's demeanor had changed completely. He didn't look sad or angry or even determined, just completely stoic. Frank didn’t know what to do with himself. He watched Mikey take his pills, like he did almost every afternoon, but today his friend’s hands were shaking. His eyes were wet and red. No other sign of emotion betrayed his face. So Frank just took his lead, and soon they were out the door. No more words needed to be spoken about Pete. Frank had maybe a million words to speak about Ray, and the implications of what had just happened, but Mikey didn’t need that. Not right now.

* 

Between midterms, consoling Mikey, and texting Gabe about his ongoing existential crisis, Frank was absolutely exhausted. Not to mention that his nose was on the fritz and the colder weather just made it worse. It was still Halloween though, the best holiday ever, and the pumpkins and ghouls on windows made him cheerful.

After D&D sessions, Frank and Ray started staying behind in Gerard’s apartment. Originally it was only Frank, but one time Gerard invited Ray to stay as well and so the tradition began. Frank didn’t even think they got along very well but they were friendly enough, connected through their friendship with Frank and some old camaraderie they had as boyfriends. It was so good, in the middle of a long week, to just relax with his favorite boys. But Frank expected he couldn’t relax this time. He didn’t know why. So he brought some weed and hoped they’d join him.

“Sure, we can stink up my room for your birthday,” Gerard said, picking up his books from the kitchen table. "I have Halloween-themed cupcakes in the fridge for munchies."

“Hell yeah,” said Ray. “I learned how to roll joints, can I roll the joint?”

They sat on the ground of Gerard’s room and Ray rolled a perfect little joint using a D&D book as a flat surface. Frank carefully tied a plastic bag around the smoke detector. Gerard tucked a towel under his door. Frank was giddy with the secrecy of it all, like he was smoking in his bedroom with his friends in high school again. He complimented Ray’s rolling skills, lit the joint, and took the first hit. Finally, everything was okay.

They smoked in relative silence, appreciating the weed as they passed the well-rolled joint around and sat on the carpet. Looping adventure music from the D&D session still played from Gerard's laptop but Frank wasn't really hearing it. He was thinking of that afternoon with Ray and leaned toward him. Could he kiss him now? Would it be weird? Frank wondered this while rubbing his cheek on Ray's shoulder, like a cat planting his pheromones.

"I prefer the instruments to the joints," Gerard slurred. He blinked a lot as he stared at the joint, before passing it. "Feels more special. Specialer? More spishhh…"

"When was the last time you smoked weed, Gerard?" Frank asked, grinning.

"Lonnng time ago."

"Isn't he cute?" Ray said. He kissed the top of Frank's head. So nice. "I smoked a lot over the summer."

Gerard scoffed. "Mr. Three Jobs splurging on weed, huh?"

"Hey." Ray pointed two fingers at Gerard, then seemed to notice he had the tiny end of the joint between them. He smoked the last of it, then put it down before continuing. "Two jobs didn't cut it. Three left me with enough excess to have me a mid-week doobie, which I DESERVED, Mr. Daddy Owns a Hedge Fund."

Gerard laughed, and then they all laughed, and then Frank hugged Ray's arm like a greedy baby. He loved the playful rivalry. He loved spending time with them both together right now. He tugged on Ray's arm, trying to pull him closer to Gerard.

"You're both so…" Frank started, looking between them. "I mean, look at you. You're so…"

After the recent, unrepeated fuck session, Ray seemed emboldened to kiss Frank. Or maybe it was the setting. Or maybe it was the weed. Either way Frank kissed back, lazily draping an arm around his neck; it felt good to have Ray’s gentle but firm hands at his waist. When they parted, Frank turned to see Gerard had moved closer. It felt easy and good and right to kiss Gerard now, as one of Ray’s hands slipped from his waist to his thigh. Gerard was just a tad more aggressive, kissing Frank like he was ready to start something; Frank got quickly breathless, confused and overwhelmed by their hands on him.

Their hands were on him, Frank realized, under his shirt and between his legs. He didn't know who was doing what as he took turns kissing them, keeping his eyes closed, just waited for one of those hands on his jaw to guide him to the right mouth. Ray, gentle and sweet and loving; Gerard, secure and strong and energetic. He found his way under their shirts, too, but they helped him out of his before he could do much about it.

"Before we do this...either of you wanna be my boyfriend?" Frank said, catching up on his breath.

"Yeah," Ray said, smiling and excited by the prospect. At the same time, Gerard answered, "Yes!" as if he'd been waiting for that question for a long time.

Frank nodded. He touched both their cheeks. Gerard's was perfectly smooth and Ray's was just a tad scruffy. "That was sweet. Now fight over me."

Ray raised his eyebrows and looked at Gerard, who shrugged and gave a little smirk. Frank rubbed their cheeks and touched the corners of their mouths with his thumb.

"I don't think...we have to fight?" Ray said. He turned his head to nibble on Frank's finger.

"We've established we're more modern than that," Gerard said, holding Frank's wrist to kiss his palm.

Frank really was feeling overwhelmed every day this month. He took a few deep breaths as they continued their sexy gestures; that weed smell filled his nose as he looked between them. He imagined them eating him right up, just chomping up his arm like this was the gay guy version of Jennifer's Body meets the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp. But it was delicate how Ray licked his thumb, sent a shiver through his spine with a drag of his teeth; how Gerard kissed his wrist and his knuckles.

"You _both_ wanna be my boyfriend?" Frank said softly, testing the waters.

"As long as I don't have to be Ray's boyfriend," Gerard said, earning a scoff from Ray.

"Agreed," Ray said, moving Frank's hand to his thigh.

"I didn't think that was where this night was going," Frank said, smiling as Gerard moved over him to kiss him again. "This isn't...just 'cause...we're high, is it?"

They didn't have sex, this time. They were definitely too high for it, and Frank didn't want to after this major decision. But they touched each other; or, Frank touched them and they touched him. They admitted to talking about him, about what was going on with the three of them, what they were okay with and what they expected. They lit another joint and ending up lying on that carpet, staring at the ceiling, and just talking. Gerard's head was on Frank's stomach. Ray's was on Frank's chest. They'd changed the music to something more romantic.

"So...two separate relationships?" Frank clarified. "With both of you. Anything goes?"

"I'm cool with it," Gerard agreed.

"Yep," said Ray.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

*

Frank left pretty late that night. He kissed Gerard goodbye and held Ray's hand as they made it across campus. They stopped at the food court and Frank took a seat where he could lean his head against a window and wistfully look through it, while Ray went to buy them pizza. He recognized a group of friends by their silhouettes and waved at them. One of them was a very sexy knight who ran over and sat across from him.

"Hey!" Mikey said. "How was D&D?"

"I'm so happy," Frank said. He couldn't help himself.

"You're high," Mikey said,

"Oh. Do I smell? I'm sorry…"

"It's cool! You're not being a jerk about it. I'm happy you're happy, it's cute."

Mikey put his hand on the table, face-up. Frank held his hand and squeezed. He looked behind him and saw Ray still in line to pay for their food. He wanted to tell Mikey everything; he spoke quickly, turned back toward Mikey slowly, and leaned forward as he dropped the volume. Ya know, highly covert.

"I just spent the last three hours smoking and making out with Gerard and Ray and now they're my boyfriends," he said, taking a deep breath at the end.

Mikey grinned and walked around the table to give Frank a hug. "That's why you're so happy! You chaotic poly."

Frank giggled and hugged his best friend back. "Yeah, that's why."

"Give me all the details later. I'll leave you to your late night dinner date."

Mikey kissed his cheek and went back to his friends, just in time for Ray to sit at the table. Frank's wistful smile turned to Ray. He'd been so worried that Mikey would be upset that things were going well for him...but he seemed so genuinely happy for him. It just made everything that tiny bit better.

"What was that?" Ray said, giving Frank his slice and soda.

Frank shrugged. "Clearing something up. And he's probably telling the Fueled By Ramen crew over there that we're dating now."

They looked over and sure enough, their friends looked in their direction and made faces and waved. Mikey hid behind someone.

"Good," Ray said, waving at them with a huge smile. Frank chuckled. Pizza never tasted this good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done writing this, and I'm so grateful to anyone who gives even the shortest comment. I started writing for another fandom and my writing gets more views there...but no comments. It feels better to get few views here and a handful of passionate, kind comments. I started writing by writing MCR fanfic, so it's nice to see that fans here are still so legit after all these years. I hope you liked this one. And if you didn't, I'd love to hear why as well.
> 
> Two chapters to go. See ya soon. it's gonna get spicy ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I received a lovely comment that inspired me to come back to this trilogy which I abandoned because I lost some of it to the ether. This will be an abridged version in 5 parts, as opposed to the longer one shots of prior installments.
> 
> This can be read without reading the prior two, but I think they're pretty good and if you got this far without me having a beta imagine what a beta'd fic would read like ooooh. And the background is good to have.


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